


Top If You Want

by Falco



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Blood, Blow Jobs, F/M, Other, Pegging, Queer Het, Snarky ass Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falco/pseuds/Falco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Cassandra have a very special relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Top If You Want

She hadn't said a word the whole time. Jason had already come once. There was still blood on his tongue from where she'd bitten it, sucking at the cut hungrily before dropping to her knees to shamelessly smear the blood down the length of his cock as she slurped him past her lips, bringing him back to hardness. Jason's chin felt heavy, his mouth hung open, jaw to his chest as he watched her move, full pink lips shiny and slick in a matter of seconds. She hadn't said a word, but she was hardly quiet right now and each gulp made his eyes roll up into his head.

Showed him for thinking that just 'cause she didn't talk much she'd be real passive. There was something unassuming and hesitant about the way Cassandra Cain spoke, and so he'd been caught off guard when she'd spun him hard to shove him into the wall of the living room. The curtains that framed the glass balcony doors were open and the dismal Gotham lights weren't doing much to help the one lamp they'd turned on to illuminate the apartment Bruce had given her. He hadn’t been able to see her as well as he wanted, couldn’t read her like he knew she was reading him.

The impact of his back against plaster had driven the breath out of him and he hadn't had time to catch it when her lips met his in a biting kiss. Then there was the blood and then there was the cock sucking and then Jason was pretty sure his brain was melting out his ears. Gasping uselessly and groping at the back of her head as she bobbed up and down was the most he could manage.

He'd gone stupid. Cassandra had driven him stupid and Jason wasn't sure what he could grab onto to bring himself back. It had started with teasing and some kisses and him asking just how long had she been wanting to fuck Bruce because it was obvious to everyone, even Bruce, and now it was the blood from his mouth on his cock and her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked on the head like a goddamn hoover.

Once he was properly mind wiped, Cass pulled off and stood, muscle shifting visibly. She was still in the suit, covered in kevlar - cowl, cape, boots and gloves off, the emblem of the Bat bright across her chest. Distracting. For once, though, Jason didn't think of all those failed relationships when he saw it, maybe because Cassandra had strong fingers wrapped around his wrist and was dragging him away from the wall.

Jason stumbled, pants around his thighs. He still had his holster on for chrissake. He wondered if she was going to let him undress any further, because _yes_ at this point it was a matter of being allowed.

He shouldn't have been surprised when she released him and pointed to woefully messy queen sized bed that sat in the middle of the starkly decorated bedroom. "Guns gone," she said shortly. He obeyed and watched her undress, sat on the end of the bed and let his eyes follow the edge of the shirt as she peeled it off, then shrugged off his jacket as she tossed the sports bra to join it. She turned, faced him, dark eyes glinting with something like pleasure even as the rest of her expression remained passive.

Jason realized she was fucking with him. She knew she had him on an uneven keel. She loved it.

"Pants," she said next as she peeled off her own, stripping down until there was nothing but hard muscle and soft hair falling across her forehead. Jason tipped back so he could kick his pants to the floor. His shirt followed and she seemed pleased by this so Jason couldn't help his little smirk. Her eyes traced him from head to foot just as thoroughly as she done for him and it made him preen.

"Like that?" he asked in a sneer, stomach curling as he sat up. She came to a stop at the foot of the bed, knees pressed to the edge, arms slack at her sides. "What are you looking for, little sister?" Jason dropped his head back, eyes hooded to watch her with his chin tipped up, pleased when she arched one brow.

"You can top if you want," spoken as though he hadn't been begging for mercy half a minute earlier, "you seem like that's your thing, right? Silent and aggressive, hold on and ride hard?"

A siren from outside filled the silence in the apartment and Jason felt his smile waver. She was just _watching_ him, clearly reading every breath, every twitch of his cock, every rise and fall of his chest. One of Jason's hands curled in the blanket he was lying on and he didn't notice.

"That's not what you want," she said finally, suddenly, taking a step to the side to go to her closet.

"What? What's not what I want?" He shifted, pushing up and bracing himself on both hands.

"You don't want me to ride you," Cassandra informed him matter-of-factly, "you want me to...fuck you." The hesitation, on anyone else, would have been dramatic, but Cassandra Cain was just taking the time to recall the correct word.

Jason's gulp practically echoed.

He did. Damn it.

"Pretty sure your father didn't teach you that trick so you could do that," he said snidely, watching tension slide like the unwelcome brush of a hand across her bare shoulders.

"Turn over," she said without turning around.

Jason watched, mouth going dry, as black leather straps slid across her tight ass, around her slim hips, only doing as she’d ordered when she started to look back at him. Flat on his stomach, it was harder to see her, so he felt her hands before getting a glimpse of her crouching behind him on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. There was nothing gentle about the way she tugged at his hips, bringing him up on his knees, pushing down between his shoulder blades, then the back of his head, shoving his face into the blankets. His heart sounded like a bass drum in his ears and she hadn't even gotten started.

"I know you want me to fuck you," she said evenly as she reached around to grab his cock, stroking it until, against his best efforts, a low whine rose out of his throat. "But I need you to say it."

Jason had forgotten what she was talking about for a moment. The slide of her hand over his cock was slick with precum and he could feel the oddly smooth press of her cock against his ass.

"I need you to say it," she repeated, still calm, "say it, Jason, if you want it."

She let him go and he gasped in air, only realizing that he was nodding after he'd been doing it for a while.

"Yes. Yes." Jason Todd might have pride, but he didn't have _that_ much pride. "I want it."

Her hands left him and he heard the pop of a bottle. Her palm was small on the muscled curve of his ass and she spread him, making him arch his his back with another whine - one that broke when two slender fingers, slick and cool, pressed into him. Then three. Then they were twisting and spreading and Jason was clawing at the blankets, embarrassing noises spilling off his lips as she fucked him shallowly.

He heard her huff a breath and then her fingers were gone, quickly replaced by the slicked, blunt head of her cock. Both her hands - still wet with lube - clamped hard onto his hips and Cassandra drew him back instead of thrusting forward. Jason's face was still pressed into the blankets, his back curved into a smooth arch, ass canted up, his knees spread. She hooked her hands under his hips and let him take her in, rather than forcing her way.

Jason was seeing stars. He could feel each inch of stretch, every inch of solid silicone as his body relaxed, opened, accepted. He was pushing back without thinking, wriggling and breathing hard until her hips met his ass and the head touched off something deep, sharp and startling.

Cassandra actually chuckled breathlessly at his yelp.

After that, after she was sure he could take her, she bent forward to hold him to the bed. Her fingers curled in his hair, twisting through silky black strands, and Jason panted damp breath into the sheets, eyes wide as he waited. Clearly, Cassandra was going to get herself settled first, leaving him aching for movement and friction. Finally, with agonizing precision, Cassandra drew her hips back and drove forward in a sharp thrust, the beginning of a fast pace.

Already slick with sweat and struggling to breathe with blanket in his mouth, Jason clenched up tight - actually keeping her from pulling out for a second - and earned himself a sharp smack on one ass cheek. Air dragged roughly in and out of his throat and he didn't even have the wherewithal for moans. Cassandra had shifted to one knee, her other foot planted next to him, and her hands slid back to his shoulders, still holding him down, but he could move his head. His vision stayed blurry - or maybe he was just seeing spots because she was fucking him hard enough to bruise. His hips and now his back were messy with lube and sweat and he could feel himself drip precum onto the blankets, cock still rising hard against his stomach.

"You're going to come," Cassandra panted, only losing her cool a little as she focused in on thrusting deep, all that muscle going to work plowing him. Her hands hooked over his shoulders to keep him from sliding up the bed from the force of her hips against his ass and when she bent forward he could feel her breasts in a soft counterpoint.

"I-" He could feel it, so she could see it. Each ripple of muscle in his back told her, each tremble, each little jerk of his hips when she hit that _perfect_ spot. And fuck, it was so _fucking_ perfect. The rising crest of his climax swelled up, filling him like she filled his ass, making him whimper unhappily every split second she pulled away.

"Come," she urged hoarsely, pausing in her pace just long enough to bring her other knee back down, giving her room to reach under him and start an equally quick stroke over his cock again. There was something perfunctory about it, but that just made Jason wind even tighter.

When he finally followed her direction, it was messy. Jason wasn't sure he didn't actually black out for a second, but when he was aware of himself again, he was moaning loud enough to wake the neighbors and spilling himself over her hand. Cassandra didn't stop as he jerked and wriggled, not with her hand and not with her hips. Jason's final cry was sharp and startled, bucking hard enough to throw her off for a moment. Cassandra leaned back and caught him by the hips again, finally coming to a stop.

She released him and he flopped forward, twitching when the rough cloth of the blankets dragged against his cock. He felt her slide out and it made him grit his teeth, tonguing the roof of his mouth against the taste of stale blood. The bed shifting let him know she was moving away again and he turned his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face, of some indication that she'd been affected as much as him.

Jason was shit out of luck. She was turned toward him, looking down as she undid the straps, hair falling forward to obscure one side of her face. Except for the slight smile on her lips, she looked the same as ever, if a little sweaty.

"The fuck do you even have that?" Jason asked hoarsely, praying in his head she wouldn't kick him out. He didn't think his legs were working.

Cassandra's smile grew and she turned to go into the bathroom, bringing the strap-on with her. For a second he didn't think she'd answer, but then she threw it back over her shoulder.

"Steph."


End file.
